poet shmoet

Every year for his birthday agent Chip MacGregor has a bad poetry contest. I entered. Twice. Because I'm so good at being bad. Well, you know what I mean.

If you want to read more really awful poetry, go ahead. Enter, too, if you want.

Poem #1

my heart is heavy
weighed down like it has a big boulder from Rocky Mountain National Park on it
It pulls me down into a pit of sorrow and sadness
like a well full of tears and sadness
The sun is shining like a super bright star
but in my heart
it is black
like darkness without the sun

Someday I will once again
walk in the brightness
of happiness
I will walk like a girl who is happy
like a girl with ballet slippers on her feet
and I will think only of love and joy
rainbows and kittens

Someday when my precious boy stops puking.

Poem #2

The most magical thing I ere did see
sat upon grandma's console TV
Mesmerized I'd watch with stars in my eyes
as the lava collided and shattered
and sighed
A symbol of life illumined before me
of love, and peace,
friendship and harmony
as globules of stuff to each other would cling
and soar through the universe upon fiery wing
Then conflict would come and the globs
they would part, each seeking it's own
with despondent heart.
But peace would call forth
and each gooey clump
would reach for another
and another and anon
until love reigned in lava land
and still I looked on
longing with all that was in my wee heart
to one day own such a lavish piece of art.

FYI, my son does seem to be better after a week of not being.

And the prize in the contest is a lava lamp.